Blank Colors
by Katy Bertolette
Summary: This was never supposed to happen. No, they were supposed to live happily ever after. They had the perfect future, and they never expected to hear those world-shattering words in that gray exam room.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, sadly.**

**Warnings: Lovino's mouth, boy x boy, character death, and cancer.**

This was never supposed to happen. No, they were supposed to live happily ever after. They were supposed to work through college together and graduate some sunny spring day, giving each other a secret smile up on the makeshift stage because they _made it_. They were supposed to get married in a Spanish cathedral and go on a honeymoon in Venice. That was their perfect life, and they had never expected to hear those world shattering words that the doctor uttered in that gray exam room. Gray, gray, gray. When Antonio looked at the walls, the ceiling, the floor, that was all that he saw.

"The cancer has traveled to lungs. He'll be lucky to live another three months."

And now three months was up, and Antonio was holding Lovino's hand as the Italian boy struggled to take each breath even though an oxygen mask was secured tightly to his face. Lovino's pale body was frighteningly thin, and Antonio could count his ribs every time he lifted his shirt to hook the medicine up to his port. Despite the chemo, the radiation, _everything_, Lovino was still going to die and leave Antonio all alone.

Watching Lovino suffer broke Antonio. It tore him from the inside out, made him sob every night and plead to God to let Lovino live. It broke into the safe haven Antonio had lived in his whole life, and the cold, harsh reality seeped through his body and took all the color away from him. Antonio used to live in a rainbow, but all this was gray, gray, gray.

Gray. Antonio despised the color. It was the color of needles, the color of Lovino's face after he got sick, the color of gravestones, and the color of the frigid winter sky. Antonio much preferred red. Red was the color of ripe red tomatoes plucked fresh off the vine, the color of Lovino's face when he blushed, the color of passion, and the color of a Spanish sunset. Here in the hospital, the only red thing was blood. Lovino's blood.

Looking down at Lovino's sullen face, Antonio had a sudden flashback that he didn't even bother to stop.

.

_"Boys and girls, we have two new students today," Miss Elizaveta announced. _

_Antonio looked up from his coloring book, mild curiosity filling his mind and distracting him from his picture of a cat. It wasn't often that new children came to this school, and when they did, Antonio always tried to make friends with them. He wanted to be friends with everyone, because each person was so different, so unique, and Antonio loved them all. _

_He smiled as two new boys shuffled shyly into the classroom. One of them had red hair with a distinct curl, golden eyes, and cream-colored skin. The other had darker hair with the same curl, hazel eyes, and lightly tanned skin. Despite looking different, it was obvious that they were brothers. _

_The red haired brother waved cheerfully, beaming widely. "Caio! My name is Feliciano Vargas!" he greeted, introducing himself. Antonio smiled, taking a liking to the boy at once._

_The brunette frowned. "I'm Lovino Vargas," he grumbled, crossing his arms in a small move of defiance. _

_Miss Elizaveta nodded at them. "Thank you, boys," she said, scanning the classroom for places they could sit. She assigned Feliciano the seat next to Ludwig, the German student, and told Lovino to sit next to Antonio._

_Antonio flashed Lovino a grin when he settled in next to him. "Hola! I'm Antonio Carriedo, I'm seven years old, and it's nice to meet you!"_

_Lovino stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Shush, idiot," he hissed in a thick accent, using a potty-mouth even though he was young. "If you must know, I'm six and a half, and I moved here from Italy."_

_That was the day Antonio fell in love._

_._

Despite the grim situation, Antonio couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory. Ah, that was the day he met Lovino. It seemed like he was having a lot of flashbacks lately, even though he wasn't the one on the hospital bed. Antonio vaguely wondered if Lovino was having flashbacks, too.

Antonio looked down at Lovino, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Lovino was so fragile, so thin, so sick. Antonio was used to Lovino being vibrant, colorful, beautiful. The old Lovino was like the color red-exciting and spicy and lively. This Lovino was gray.

Antonio squeezed Lovino's hand, forcing a smile for both of their sake. "Lovino, love, how are you feeling?" he asked quietly, in case Lovino was asleep.

Lovino's eyes cracked open, and Antonio was immediately transfixed just like thousands of times before. Lovino's eyes were green, gold, brown. Green like spring fields, flower stems, and maple leaves. Gold like the sun, old straw hats, and sparkling jewelry. Brown like melted chocolate, rich soil, and tree trunks.

"Like shit," Lovino muttered tiredly. He sighed, fogging up the oxygen mask with his breath.

Antonio leaned down and kissed Lovino's forehead, brushing loose hair off his face. "I'm so sorry..." he said, wishing desperately that he could take some of Lovino's pain for himself.

Whatever Lovino's reply was going to be, it was cut off by a knock at the door. Antonio smiled at Lovino before sliding off the bed and opening it. The doctor stood there, looking grave for some reason. "Can you come with me?" the doctor asked Antonio, folding his hands behind his back.

Antonio nodded, closing the door behind him. The doctor sighed, running a hand through his (gray) hair. "We've done all that we can for him," he said to Antonio, referring about Lovino. "His body's just too sick. He'll be lucky if he makes it through the night."

In a split second, Antonio saw all of his hopes and dreams for the future he wanted with Lovino ruined, and a wave of pain washed over his body and clenched at his heart. Everything around him seemed to move in slow motion, and his vision blurred. "No, that can't be right," he assured the doctor, his voice wavering.

The doctor bit his lip, and his eyes were downcast. "I'm afraid it is."

"There must be something you can do!" Antonio cried, and his voice cracked. When the doctor was silent and he realized there wasn't, his stomach sank and he took a shaky breath in. "Can we at least spend the rest of his time together?" he questioned.

The doctor nodded. "I'll leave you two alone," he said and spun on his heel, walking down the hall to check on another patient.

Trying to steady himself, Antonio stepped into the room, and yet another memory flashed before his eyes.

.

_"Come on, let's eat lunch outside today!" Antonio exclaimed, grabbing Lovino by the hand and dragging him towards the lunchroom door. It was a perfect and clear day, the sky bright blue. Blue like tropical waters, blue like Ludwig's irises, blue like dyed birthday cake. _

_Antonio was going to confess to Lovino today-confess that he was madly in love with the Italian. He had been for years, ever since Lovino had entered his first grade class that lovely fall day. They were fifteen now, and Antonio was tired of waiting, tired of holding it in._

_Lovino grumbled slightly, but allowed Antonio to drag him outside none the less. Antonio led him over to a large oak tree, sitting at the base and patting the spot next to him. Lovino complied, pulling out his sandwich from a brown paper sack. But before he could take a bit, Antonio cleared his throat. "Hey, Lovino...have you ever fallen in love with another boy?"_

_Lovino's eyes widened and he dropped the sandwich in shock. "No, of course I haven't!" he replied, but Antonio could tell he was lying. There was a pained and regretful glint in his eyes, one that wouldn't be there if he was telling the truth._

_"I have," Antonio said slowly. "And he's sitting right next to me." He squeezed his eyes shut, scared of Lovino's reaction. There was silence, and Antonio felt his stomach sink. Lovino didn't feel the same way..._

_But all of a sudden, Lovino was right there, putting his arms around Antonio's neck and kissing him, and the Spaniard knew everything was going to be okay._

.

When the flashback ended, Antonio put his face in his hands and began to sob. That was the best day of his life, and this was the worst. He had managed to keep in the tears up until then, but now all the previously unspilled ones were released, and they streamed down his face like a river.

The only thing that stopped him from continuing to cry was Lovino's hacking cough, bringing him down to reality. He stood up straight, wiping the hot and salty tears off his face. He walked over to Lovino's bed, taking Lovino's hand once again.

"What did the doctor talk to you about?" Lovino asked, his voice weak and weary.

Antonio couldn't bring himself to tell Lovino what the doctor had told him. It would only cause Lovino more pain, and Antonio didn't have the heart to do that. "Nothing, mi amore," he lied.

Lovino coughed again, but this time less forcibly. "Don't lie to me," he said. "I know exactly what the doctor said. I can feel it-I don't have much more time. And besides, why the fuck else would you be crying like that?"

Antonio felt his eyes well up with tears again. "Please don't leave me," he pleaded Lovino. "Please don't leave me alone."

Lovino stared at him with a feverish gaze. "I don't have a choice," he told Antonio.

"I love you," Antonio blurted out, a single tear making a trail down his face.

"I love you, too," Lovino whispered. "Antonio...I'm tired..."

Antonio began stroking Lovino's hair. "It's okay," he said. "You can sleep now." In his heart, Antonio knew once Lovino closed his eyes, he'd never open them again. And before he knew it, he began singing an old Spanish lullaby to Lovino, one he'd sung hundreds of times before.

As he sang, Lovino's breathing slowed, and his eyes fluttered shut. And as Antonio sung the last line of the lullaby, Lovino's breathing stopped forever.

That was the day Antonio went numb.

**A/N: Now that I finished this, I realize it has a similar plot to George deValier's 'Sleep, Little Bird'. That was completely unintentional.**


End file.
